


Summertime

by ready_to_kick_some_ass



Series: FitzHunter Stories [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready_to_kick_some_ass/pseuds/ready_to_kick_some_ass
Summary: It's summer. Fitz and Hunter talk about scars and disappointing fathers. (And have sex)





	Summertime

**Author's Note:**

> Angst that somehow turned into porn. 
> 
> I have no idea where and when this story takes place, so you can choose which versions of them you want to imagine. I prefer season 5.

“This one?” Fitz asks, carefully running his finger over a thin silver scar on Hunter’s hip.

Hunter takes a sip of his beer and frowns as he tries to remember. “Hmm. A knife. I think, two years ago, on a mission in South America. The man was hiding in the shadows of the jungle. He was good. But I was better. I had to be. Almost fell into a river full of alligators together with him.”

Fitz swallows. “I’m glad you didn’t,” he mumbles.

Hunter chuckles. “Well. To be honest, I think a fight with an angry alligator would have been quite interesting. Something new."

Fitz raises an eyebrow.

  
It’s a hot summer day and they’re laying on Hunter’s bed, only wearing shorts. Fitz spends the lazy time with admiring Hunter’s muscles and finding new favourite spots on his sunburned skin. He tracks freckles and searches for scars he doesn’t know yet. Every single spot has an own story. Fitz loves every story Hunter has to tell. Because they all end here. They brought Hunter to where he is now. To Shield. To Fitz. They are the stories of the past. The stories of the future they will tell together.

He finds another scar on Hunter’s elbow. Not a line, this time. It looks more like a small frayed star. Fitz thinks it might be a burn scar.

“What about this one?” He asks, touching it with his fingertip lightly.

Hunter looks at the scar and suddenly his eyes darken. He swallows and hastily takes another sip of his beer.

Fitz frowns. He feels that something changed. The lazy warm liveliness between them has disappeared. Hunter seems tense now. Fitz doesn’t like it.

“What’s the matter?” He asks carefully.

Hunter clears his throat. “This scar … It’s not from a fight. It’s … I don’t like it. And I don’t like the story behind it.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Fitz tells Hunter calmly. He knows a lot about the kind of stories, one would rather forget. He owns quite a few of them too. Hunter knows most of them by now. 

Hunter wipes his mouth. He shakes his head. “I want to. I should. I never told someone before. But it’s you. I tell you.”

He takes a deep breath. When he continues to talk, his voice sounds bitter. “The scar is from my father. It happened when I was, um, about 16 years old. He was in the army once. He loved to be in the army. He loved everything about war. Oh yeah. But he was hurt in the field and had to retire. The fact that he couldn’t defend his beloved country anymore made him frustrated and bad tempered. But at least, he had a son. And of course, this son had to be a soldier too. The best one.”  
  
Hunter snorts. He takes a hasty sip of his beer, before he continues. Fitz listens, feeling slightly sick.  
  
“One day, he trained me to shoot with a machine gun. After a while, he thought I didn’t shoot well enough. So he grabbed my arm, took his cigarette out of his mouth, asked ‘Why are you always such a disappointment Lance?’ and squeezed it out on my elbow. I tried not to scream. That would have made him even more mad. I nearly passed out from the pain. But I didn’t scream.”

Fitz swallows. He feels a combination of sadness and rage. Rage at the kind of man who would do something like that to their own child. Too many bad, abusive fathers in this world ...

“He was never satisfied,” Hunter murmurs, shuddering involuntarily. “He always wanted more. But he got fatter and older and drank too much alcohol. A heart attack killed him. I found him in his bed. And you know what?” He looks at Fitz with haunted eyes. “I laughed. I laughed like a maniac.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” Fitz mumbles.

Hunter sighs. “Don’t be. It’s in the past. And I’m trying to not be what he wanted me to be, you know? At least now, I’m really trying.  I try to be a good man, who shoots the right people to save others." He frowns. "That sounds crazy. Shooting shouldn’t be the solution. But sometimes it is. It’s this world.” He shrugs, scratching the back of his head. “I wouldn’t want to make _him_ proud. He doesn’t deserve that. But I hope I can make people proud, who really mean something to me. You … I want to make you proud.”

He looks at Fitz and smiles crookedly. “They would have gotten along quite well, you know? Your father and mine … Two assholes, not deserving the love of their sons. But _your_ father isn’t dead yet, is he?”

Fitz looks aside, his fingers tightening around the half empty bottle in his hand. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything about him since he left me when I was ten years old. He could be dead. I don’t care.”

Hunter nods thoughtfully. “You’re too good for him,” he tells Fitz seriously. “Never forget that he’s the one to blame. Nothing of it was or is your fault.”

Fitz nods. "The same goes for you," he mumbles. He drinks the rest of his beer and leans over to put the bottle on the floor. He feels sweat trickling down his neck over his spine. Even the slightest movements are exhausting in this merciless summer heat.

He looks at Hunter again, whose eyes are slightly glassy now. Maybe he remembers …

Fitz knows how merciless memories can be. Especially the dark ones. Distraction is hard to find when you’re deep in the clutches of old demons which never want to disappear completely. But it’s easier, when you’re not alone.

Fitz presses a soft kiss on the star scar on Hunter’s elbow.

Hunter’s breath hitches.

He looks down at Fitz with a certain expression on his face, that’s reserved for those lazy pleasant moments they spend alone. “I love you,” he breathes.

Fitz looks up at him and nods. “I know. I love you too.”

Hunter grins, staring up at the ceiling with a lost look in his eyes. “Aren’t we a pair of losers? Our fathers would have won the "worst parent of the year"- award every single time. But here we are. Together. It’s summer, it’s hot and we have cold beer. We have time, maybe for the rest of this week, and … Oh God. Do that again.”

Fitz grins. He kisses the certain spot at Hunter’s right thigh again, earning a soft sigh, that sounds dreamy and hopeful.

He runs a finger down Hunter’s happy trail teasingly, stopping right above his pelvic bone, drawing circles there. It's suggestive. 

Hunter’s breath hitches and he shudders. He looks down at Fitz with fire in his eyes. “It’s so hot,” he mumbles. “But bloody hell, there’s nothing I want more than feeling your skin on mine. We’ll probably pass out at some point, but there’s no one waiting for us anyway …”

Fitz shrugs. “I know less enjoyable situations to pass out,” he says. Then he slowly kisses his way back up Hunter’s body, until he reaches his lips.  
They kiss passionately. It tastes like beer and secureness.

When they part, they are breathless and sweaty already. Hunter raises an eyebrow. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Fitz breathes. _It’s what we need_ , he thinks. _I can sense it._

Hunter opens their drawer, throwing lube on the bed. Fitz’s toes tingle in anticipation.

“Lay on your stomach,” Hunter tells him in a husky voice.

Fitz obeys. He presses his face into the soft pillow, closing his eyes. Soon he feels Hunter’s warm breath on his neck. He shivers, sighing into the pillow as his body relaxes.

Hunter kisses his slow way over Fitz’s back and runs his hands over his sides, savouring it, until Fitz feels too aroused to wait for proper stimulation any longer. He squirms restlessly on the bed, sighing in frustration, because there’s not enough friction. But Hunter doesn't stop teasing him, now sucking a hickey into his neck while stroking a warm hand over his bum, humming happily. “Hunter,” Fitz murmurs, frowning.

Hunter chuckles. “Always so impatient,” he says, but at least he frees them both of their shorts, throwing them on the floor carelessly.

He lays on top of Fitz carefully, until their bodies are connected. They both sigh at the contact. Skin on skin. Warm and solid. “What do you want to do?” Hunter asks breathlessly, after he pressed a few kisses into Fitz's sweaty neck, moaning when his erection bumps against Fitz’s thigh. He licks his lips. Salty and sweet. A perfect combination right now.

"I want you inside me,” Fitz tells him, reaching for Hunter’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

Hunter squeezes back, exhaling shakily. He nods, pressing a kiss between Fitz’s shoulder blades.

After a moment, he reluctantly moves, laying on his side beside Fitz. “I want to see your face,” he tells Fitz, who turns on his back. Their eyes meet and they’re looking at each other for a moment, both wondering how exactly they ended up here, although they already know. But sometimes reality seems fragile, because the past made it a dangerous place that couldn’t be trusted.

Hunter eventually reaches for the lube and coats his fingers generously. He slides one down the crack of Fitz's ass to circle around his hole teasingly, loosening the muscle.

Fitz flinches. “Cold,” he mumbles accusingly.

Hunter grins. “Hey, you should be glad for every bit of cooling. Everything else here is unbearable hot. Including you.”

Fitz mumbles something incoherent, that ends in a breathy moan, when Hunter carefully presses his finger in. He waits for a moment, then moves it slowly in and out, watching every reaction on Fitz’s face with hungry eyes.

“More,” Fitz mumbles soon, laying an arm over his face, that’s flushed and sweaty. His voice sounds drowsy.

Hunter obeys and presses two fingers in. He swallows Fitz’s moan in a deep kiss, using his free hand to stroke his boyfriend’s cock in a lazy rhythm, the combination of pre-come and sweat easing the movement.

Hunter's own erection is throbbing in an almost unbearable arousal now and he rubs it against Fitz’s tight unconsciously, the friction too little and yet so strong, that he pants against Fitz’s lips, their kisses getting sloppy and unfocused. Time passes without them having a feeling for it. The heat makes the air in the room heavy and hard to breathe. Hunter feels light-headed, yet his senses are sharpened, every kiss, every moan they share is almost too intense. It's intoxicating.

“I’m ready,” Fitz says sometime, pushing at Hunter’s shoulder urgently.

“Okay,” Hunter breathes, pulling his fingers out. “But you’ll tell me if it hurts, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Fitz mumbles and it sounds distracted.

Hunter frowns. He pats Fitz’s cheek to get his attention, looking at him emphatically. “Please. You know I don’t want to hurt you,” he says.

Fitz covers Hunter’s hand with his, looking up at him with warm eyes. “You won’t hurt me,” he says, smiling. “And yes, don’t worry, I would tell you. We always tell each other everything, right?”

“Yeah,” Hunter nods. He smiles back. “We do.” His stomach flutters with the warm love he's feeling for his boyfriend. Yes, he thinks distantly, they may be a bit damaged by all the bullshit from the past, but maybe this is exactly, why they can find true understanding in each other.

He takes a pillow and pushes it under Fitz’s hips, then shifting on the bed, until he can place his rock-hard erection at Fitz’s entrance. After a last searching glance at Fitz’s face, he pushes in slowly, biting his lip at how good it feels. When he buried himself until the hilt, he waits for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

Fitz moans and clutches at Hunter’s shoulders, tossing his head back on the pillow, his eyes pressed shut.

“You feel so good, you have no idea,” Hunter gasps. He starts to thrust slowly, building up a rhythm. “So bloody good …”

Fitz whimpers. He runs his hands over Hunter’s back firmly, searchingly. His fingernails leave thin red lines. They cover some of the old silver scars on Hunter’s skin. Some new stories. “Harder,” he breathes.

Hunter obeys, angling his hips differently, searching … Fitz gasps and his hips jerk up involuntarily. “There?” Hunter asks teasingly and smirks.

“Right there,” Fitz confirms breathlessly. “Oh God … Do that again.”

“With pleasure,” Hunter gasps, taking care of hitting Fitz’s prostate with every thrust. Judging by the noises his boyfriend is making, he's doing quite a good job.

Soon, sweat is dripping from Hunter’s forehead on Fitz’s face. He kisses it away sloppily.

Their world is a hot breathless haze of bliss.

They move together in an even rhythm, knowing each other by now in way, that makes such things routine and yet an adventure.

At some point Hunter reaches between their bodies to grab Fitz’s cock. It’s rock-hard and hot in his hand. He strokes it, muffling Fitz’s deep moan with his lips. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Hunter whispers, his thrusts getting slower and shallower, as he feels the first hints of his own impending orgasm, wanting it to last as long as possible.

Fitz nods emphatically. “So close,” he breathes, shuddering in bliss. “Ah.”

Hunter smirks. He grips Fitz’s cock firmer and starts to stroke from the base to the top and back. “Then come for me,” he breathes in Fitz’s ear and kisses his neck hungrily.

Fitz moans helplessly. He bites his lip and clings to Hunter’s shoulders firmly. His face is a mask of pure bliss and his eyes are half closed, the blue in them almost fully displaced by the black of his dilated pupils.

Hunter watches Fitz’s face intensely and knows, he could do this all day, just to see this expression on his boyfriend’s face, knowing, it’s him who causes this. He never felt this kind of satisfaction before. Being with Fitz is something so very special, that it doesn’t suffice any comparison. He never wants this to end. If it’s up to him, this summer could last forever …

They are both close now, he knows. So close. And he can’t wait much longer. It’s too good.  

After a few more moments Fitz moans low and deep, arching his back and spilling hot over Hunter's hand. "Fuck," Hunter murmurs, feeling Fitz tightening around him. He only needs a few more thrusts, erratic and unfocused, until he comes too.

His orgasm is intense, and he tosses his head back, moaning as waves of pleasure overwhelm him, his hips still moving almost unconsciously, savouring it as long as it’s possible. When he can breathe again, he pulls out carefully.

He looks at Fitz, who looks completely blissed out, his eyes closed and his face relaxed, his chest still rising and lowering in a quick rhythm.

“Bloody hell,” Hunter gasps, rolling on his back, completely breathless. His body feels heavy and light at the same time. “So … good.”

Fitz hums in agreement, his eyes still closed. His whole body tingles in post orgasmic haze.

“Are you alright?” Hunter gasps, wiping his hands on the blanket, that’s ruined anyway, soaked in their sweat.

Fitz feels too drowsy to answer, so he just raises a hand and gives him a thumbs up.  

“Bloody hell, I’m bathed in sweat,” Hunter says cheerfully. “A cold shower would be great now. You’re joining me?”

Fitz nods weakly. “As soon as I’m able to move again,” he mumbles, yawning.

Hunter chuckles and kisses him on the nose softly.  

As always, it makes Fitz smile dreamily.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker and always grateful for being corrected! I'm constantly trying to improve my English, so please don't hesitate to tell me about mistakes. <3
> 
> Visit me on tumblr: [ready-to-kick-some-ass](https://ready-to-kick-some-ass.tumblr.com/) :)


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